Stealing back in the direction we’d come, I looked around the other corner and saw a similar scene. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn. Slowly, I turned and saw that we’d been surrounded. While we’d been creeping around the house, the men on the other side had gotten into position. Several of them held children in tight grips while many others had bows and arrows trained on me, ready to fire.
All I had was a handful of children now pressed behind me against the house, a bloody sword, and a knife. I’d failed. The irrational hope that luck would somehow find me burned away and blackened, leaving an ashy taste in my mouth. Looking up, I could see dozens of reinforcements who’d been hidden before, suddenly standing up on the battlements above. The master of the slaves stood among them looking down on me with a mixture of disappointment and sorrow.
Wearing a new turban, this time green, the man who bought me pushed through his men and clapped his hands, a saccharine grin on his face. “Well done,” he said. “I must commend you for getting this far.”
I said nothing in response.
He eyed me shrewdly. “I have to say, I’m a bit surprised. You didn’t go after the treasure I thought you would.” The man peered at the children behind me, specifically Anamika. “Though I cannot disparage your good taste”—he reached into a bag and pulled out the phoenix egg—“I have to admit that I’m disappointed to see that you chose to leave this behind. Perhaps it is not as valuable as I thought it was.”
The turbaned man rolled the egg between his hands and continued. “It was left on a table in plain view for you, but you passed right by it, as if you didn’t even care about it at all. But, then, I suppose it is possible you would have returned for it later.”
The phoenix egg sparkled in the light of the sun. Truthfully, I hadn’t even seen it. I was too focused on saving Anamika to give the truth stone any thought.
The man instructed a few of his soldiers to remove the children as well as the sword I carried. I gave it over easily. So far, they hadn’t discovered the knife. While they were distracted with the children, I casually pulled it out of my sash and pressed it into the young boy’s hands who stood behind me on the left. I recognized him as the one who resided in the cell beside mine. When I glanced back, the knife had totally disappeared and there was no sign of it in his clothing. I winked when he gave me a slight nod.
The turbaned man approached, not at all afraid of me. I suppose he shouldn’t have been, not with over fifty men at his disposal. When the men had led off every child except Anamika, a man stepped up and took hold of her arm. “Gently, gently,” the turbaned man warned. “No one hurts this one but me.” He gave Ana a cloying smile, touching her cheek with his finger, and she visibly shrank. It was if all the bones in her body were melting beneath his gaze.
“Get your hands off her,” I threatened.
My new owner turned interested eyes on me and laughed heartily. “Have you fallen under her spell as well? She is a pleasant diversion. I have to admit as much.”
He watched Ana until her slight form disappeared into the house. My hands tightened into fists. I wanted to sink my claws into his quivering belly and slowly eviscerate him, then watch as the scavengers closed in. Only then, after he’d suffered, would I open my mouth and bite down on his skull, crushing it while I ripped his head from the stump of his neck so that the last thing he’d ever see would be my teeth before he spun into the darkness where such evil souls belonged.
“Now then,” he said, oblivious to my dark thoughts. “I think you and I have much to talk about.” For a heavy man, he moved quickly. Spinning, he shouted over his shoulder, “Bring him.”
Now that I’d been outside, the redolent stench of the cellars was obvious to me, even without my tiger nose. The man I’d killed was still in the same spot, and the turbaned man slipped in his blood, smashing his shoulder on a cage. “Clean that up,” he hissed angrily at a man behind him as he straightened his tunic.
Without ceremony, I was slammed into the same chair I’d sat in before. My feet were manacled to the floor but only one of my hands was fastened behind my back. The burly guard took my other arm and slammed it down on the table. I tried to wrench it away, especially when the turbaned man slid a blade from the pouch he’d set down. “Hold him,” he said as he approached.
They had to bring in another man to hold me down. An hour later I was exhausted and bleeding from several deep cuts on my forearm. He hadn’t even asked me a question. “Now then,” he said, as he walked behind me. “I’ve left your fingers and hands alone for the time being simply because I think you might need them to release the magic inside the egg.”
“What makes you think it has magic?”
He raised his eyebrows. “There are many stories of such treasures. I’m a man who barters for money but also in secrets. I know something of value when I see it. There is magic in this stone. I’d bet my life on it.”
“I know value when I see it too,” I spat. “And you aren’t worth the lice living on the backs of beetles, eating the dung that clings to your camel’s—”
The punch came from the side and I felt a molar loosen in the back of my mouth. I spat blood and was gratified to see it landed on the turbaned man’s pristine jewel-crusted shoes. He hopped back and picked up a knife with a carved hilt. His face mottled, he brought the blade to my throat and could have easily drawn it across, especially when his guards grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, exposing it.
He seemed to think better of ending my life, and his eyes grew thoughtful as he drew the side of the blade down one cheekbone and then the other in a menacing sort of caress. “You’ll regret that,” he said, almost too pleasantly. “Now then, where was I? Ah, yes. I was talking about value and why I’ve left your fingers attached to your hands. I would assume you are intelligent enough to value them. I am fairly certain you don’t need two ears though.”
He pressed the knife into the skin between my ear and my scalp. “What do you want to know?” I asked as warm blood trickled down my face.
“You already know the answer to that question,” he said, panting with something akin to joy. “Don’t waste my time.”
“I’ll tell you how to work the magic,” I said. “But you have to give me something in return.”
He paused. “Is your life not enough of a gift?” he asked.
“Let her go and I’ll stay here, work for you, be your slave, whatever you want. Just let her go.”
“Of whom do you speak?” he asked, walking around to face me.
“You already know the answer to that question,” I said with a mocking grin.
Livid, he slammed the knife down, pinning my hand to the table. It hurt but I’d been hurt worse before. Fiendish delight lit his face, but his exuberant expression soon fell when he saw I didn’t scream, beg for my life, or even flinch.
I looked down at the knife and then lifted my head to show him I had no fear of anything he could do. He narrowed his eyes slyly, then lifted another knife and plunged it into my shoulder. Blood pooled around the wound, coursing thickly as he twisted it. I grunted but, again, didn’t cry out, sensing he was the type who liked that sort of thing.
The puffs of his breath washed over me as he stared into my face, seeking signs of my faltering. The fact that he enjoyed the torture was obvious. That, more than the pain he inflicted, made me want to hurl my dinner, not that I actually had any food in my belly.
“This is becoming monotonous,” I said. “Either kill me or let her go. I’m not afraid of death. I’ve stared it in the face too many times, but I assure you, I am a man of my word. I will tell you the secrets of the egg if you release her. You just have to decide how badly you want it.”